


Off the Record

by RawPrincess



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Domestic Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, Episode: s06e15 Arcadia, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, IVF Arc (X-Files), Internal Conflict, MSR, No Angst, POV Dana Scully, POV Fox Mulder, Phone Sex, Sexual Tension, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 15:32:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17983790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RawPrincess/pseuds/RawPrincess
Summary: Credit to storybycorey for their fic "Today", which inspired this piece. Scully needs a sample of male sex cells, and Mulder needs some help supplying the goods. He gives her a call and is shocked to find that Dana is not adverse to get hot'n'heavy over the phone."Have you been able to achieve orgasm?" She asked.He groaned, and she suddenly became acutely aware of her heartbeat. "I'm trying to find a way to explain what's happening here without feeling like less of a man, Scully, but I get the impression you're not going to let me away with my dignity."Yes, it's smut — don't look at me! (Continued following a warm reception, cliché undercover-married times to follow.)





	1. What are you wearing?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [storybycorey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storybycorey/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Today](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7067461) by [storybycorey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storybycorey/pseuds/storybycorey). 



> Spoilers for IVF arch that I didn't know about at the time of writing, oops. When I wrote this I had only watched as far as s06e15, so I didn't actually know that this fic was leaning toward future canon. In my imagined version of events, I for some reason thought Scully would need added incentive to ask Mulder to be her donor other than just secretly being in love with him ?? ? How naive I was. So, that's why I wrote all this preamble about rando sperm donors not working out. Go figure, lol.
> 
> I took a lot of inspiration from StorybyCorey's fic 'Today', I highly recommend it!

 

_FBI HEADQUARTERS_

_WASHINGTON, D.C._

When Dana entered the basement she felt unsure, perhaps even nervous. She smoothed her hands over her white shirt where it met her grey slacks and straightened the lapels on her coat.

Mulder stood next to the projector, painstakingly slipping slides into place, assembling some case to convince her it was worth her time. Like she had a choice but to see where that brain of his would take her next.

He always found a way to insight her curiosity, to make it all seem so reasonable until it was too late, and she was forced to reel him back from some precipice, only to join him there herself. This time it was her intent to return the favour.

"Mulder, I… I need something from you," she began. She'd woken up early that morning and made the decision, and she wouldn't back out now on cowardice alone, not without at least discussing it with him.

"Good morning to you too, Scully." Another slide tapped into position. He was in a good mood.

"It's uhm," she drew back her lip, "it's personal."

"Why do I get the sense that this request is going to be unprofessional and yet somehow unfun in equal measure?" He asked, lingering on each word as he was wont to do. He still didn't look up, but she knew she had his attention. He was only pretending to wipe off one of his slides with the untucked corner of his white button-down. She dragged her eyes away from the sliver of skin this exposed at her partners hip. She wondered how much of his skin she would have to suffer to be fully inoculated against its effect.

"Perhaps because you've taken the rare opportunity to reflect and consider that I don't solely exist for your entertainment?" She deadpanned, hoping that he would have mercy and not play with her too much over this.

Mulder smiled and turned to her. "Is it about yesterday?" He asked, cutting to the chase.

She swallowed. "Yes, I — yes. Mulder," she cleared her throat. "The only logical conclusion I've been able to reach following the inquiries we've made in the last weeks, is that somehow, some person or persons are purposely sabotaging my attempts to fertilise the ova that you secured. My ova. They've been able to cover themselves so far on the basis that either the sperm that I've been able to access or the specific lab conditions are to blame, but I believe this is how they've been successful in forcing my failure."

"Have you asked yourself how it benefits your saboteur to ensure that the question of your fertility remains a question?" Mulder asked, joining her in her frustration with a frown.

"I have, but in the meantime, I want to keep trying. I need to do more to control the variables. The male sex cells I've been able to access have somehow been rendered ineffectual. And my concern as to whether the frozen ova I have is viable to accomplish future IVF treatment is, well, growing," she had practiced this, he could probably tell.

"You've been holding out on me." Scratch that, he could definitely tell. "You've given this a lot of thought," he said, folding his arms. She watched the movement with poorly concealed interest.

He'd caught up to her conclusion. "Mulder, I come to you with limited time, options, and in no shortage of desperation. I want these answers, need to know if my ova is viable, and I won't be able to get those answer without a trusted lab attendant, one of which I have managed to source, but I also need… I need a viable sample of male sex cells." There it was, her reasonable bait to an outrageous precipice.

Maybe Mulder even blushed, he broke eye contact and laughed softly. "Jeez, Scully, you really know how to make a guy feel special," he fussed playfully, reaching a hand up to rub his face.

"Mulder," she wasn't prepared to pressure him any further, but nor was she willing to subject herself to his ridicule.

"Alright, alright," he walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'll bite. You're serious?"

She let out a sigh of relief. "I'm not asking for you to have a baby with me, I'm just asking you for the materials to confirm that it's even possible for me to conceive."

"Enough, enough, I get it. No need to kick a man while he's down. Make with the cup. That petri dish isn't gonna know what hit it."

"Ha ha." She made to roll her eyes but thought better of it. She couldn't look at him just then, so she dropped her gaze to the ground, exhaled, and said: "Thank you."

* * *

_OUR LADY OF SORROWS PRIVATE HOSPITAL_

_WASHINGTON, D.C._

"Ah, god damnit," Fox grumbled in frustration. "Come on," he all but pleaded, but to no avail. He just wasn't getting anywhere. He'd promised to do this, to do it for her, but he just. His body wouldn't co-operate. He'd already given up on the 'arousal aids' the centre had supplied him with, the television screening porn was blank in the corner. He couldn't relax. Not for the first time, he glanced at his coat slung over the back of the chair by the door.

He lay, semi reclined on a hospital bed, he hadn't bothered to get undressed. Opting simply to kick off his shoes and pull his shirt up and out of the way. Shucking his trousers down his thighs.

He could do this. Stupid lab attendant on the way in had to go on about levels of arousal correlating to quality of the sample and suddenly none of it seemed so simple. The man was some pal of Scully's from med school and she inferred that he could be trusted, which shouldn't have bothered Fox.

He had a fail safe for situations like these, he'd just allow himself to think of her. Of her, so solid and so sure, the only real thing in an increasingly false life. Why was it so difficult to summon up images of Scully in this hospital room? She was a doctor for pete's sake. God, and she was always so handsy when he was injured or sick, it was enough to make him consider hitting himself over the head with a bowling ball before work on a monday.

He tried to imagine how she would reach out, with that sure, focused touch. But then all he could hear was her voice in his head,  _Mulder, remember that the duration of your arousal is crucial to the likelihood of success. Today is the best shot, measures have been taken. I've secured the venue for this express purpose._ And then all he could think of was this friend of hers, probably wondering what was taking so long. Why Scully would allow some limp-dicked pencil-pusher to even approach her DNA. Fox wondered if Scully had told the guy who he was, or why they were doing this. Fox even started to wonder if he was the only man she'd asked to provide a specimen.

What hope did he have of ever seducing his beautiful, enchanting partner in person, if he couldn't even get it up to make sweet love to her on a glass slide?

He took his hand off his stubborn, soft cock and sighed, tugging his trousers back up to his hips he went to retrieve his cell phone. Fuck it.

* * *

_FBI HEADQUARTERS_

_WASHINGTON, D.C._

Dana picked up her phone and answered on the second ring, leaning back from her computer. "Scully," she said.

She was alone in the basement, trying and failing to concentrate. She was diverted by the need to question her sanity for most of the morning, but she comforted herself with the fact that Mulder had said he was comfortable with this before he left. And he didn't know about her feelings for him, and she didn't see why they should be a factor. What was happening today was purely pragmatic. She had asked him to do this as an act of friendship.

"Scully, it's me." Those three words.

Her eyebrows shot up, she hadn't expected him to call her on this particular day. She didn't think he'd talk to her till he got back to the office and it was over with. She felt her face heat up a little. "What is it, Mulder?" Silence. "Mulder? Is everything alright?" She heard some rustling on the other end of the phone and her eyes narrowed.

"Everything's fine, I'm just calling to ask, I don't know. Uhm, how do I put this?" He cleared his throat. "Hey, what are you wearing?"

Dana felt her jaw go slack, was he serious? She didn't want to embarrass herself by asking. "Are you at the clinic?" She asked instead, focussing on keeping her voice neutral.

"Maybe. Are you at work?" His voice was delicious.

"I'm in the basement, where you left me. Is there a problem?"

"Of sorts," he said, and there was something vulnerable in the way he said it.

She went out on a limb. "Have you been able to achieve orgasm?" She asked.

He groaned, and the sound made the hair on her neck prickle. "I'm trying to find a way to explain what's happening here in a manner that doesn't make me feel like less of a man, Scully, but I get the sense you're not going to let me away with my dignity."

Dana was still rather overwhelmed with gratitude for him agreeing to this for her and honestly, more than a little curious as to why it was she who was getting this call. She chose to test the waters.

"You want to know what I'm wearing?" She stressed.

A pause. "Even just the colour," there was a forced levity to his tone.

Dana licked her bottom lip, promptly making her choice. A choice very much based in dangerous sentiment. "This phone call never happened, Mulder," she eventually spoke, and there was something in her tone she didn't recognise.

He forced a laugh, "I'm just messing around," he defended. "Sorry."

His nerves spoke volumes, made her bold.

"No, I mean, I'm wearing a plum shirt, and a black skirt as you well know," she said, and she still sounded strange to herself. "I'm going to get you through this um, this session, Mulder. If that's what you've called me to do. But it's all...  _off the record_ , alright?" She could feel her temperature rising, feel pressure building in her vulva already.

"No, I mean, yes, maybe it is what I called you for," Mulder admitted. "off the record," he added hastily.

Dana almost backed down, almost chickened out right there. But he was doing this for her and maybe this wasn't her being led by her best judgement but Christ if he didn't sound enchanting over the phone. "Look, did you call me as a friend, or as a woman who you find attractive?" She eventually asked, sealing her fate. Stealing herself for her role in this as a sort of director of arousal.

"I… I don't know. I'm so worked up I probably shouldn't have called you at all."

"Today, for you, for this. I'm happy to be both." She could make this good for him.

"Happy to be… Scully, do I understand you correctly? For me you're… what?"

"My bra and my underwear are black, Mulder. They're satin. Does that answer the question?"

He gulped. "Shit," he whispered, his disbelief perfectly evident. His shuddering sigh frankly encouraging.

"Is this what you want? Is this why you called me?" She was going to do this, and she was going to do it right. Her chest fluttered.

More rustling down the line. "Shit, Scully. Yes… I mean  _yeah_. I guess on some level it was." He laughed again, strained.

"You don't sound so sure. I don't know how you expect me to help you here, Mulder, but I can try. Are you touching yourself?" She asked, feigning casual. Although she was aware that she could summon a deadpan which could rival Mulder's, she was amazed that her voice didn't shake at all.  _Just once._

"No," he replied. "Is this actually happening?"

"Officially? Of course not. Now, why aren't you touching yourself?" She could let herself away with this this once.

"You don't have to—"

"I'm just trying to be practical here."

He snorted out a laugh, saying: "Oh, that's right baby, talk dirty to me." In his signature drawl.

She sucked on her teeth, she didn't much appreciate being mocked. "How do you like it? Do you want me to tell you how I'd like to suck your cock?"

A sharp intake of breath. "Sorry, I'm looking for Dana Scully? We're partners with the FBI?"

She smiled. He was being defensive, she knew, because he was getting worked up. She'd deflected his advances in much the same way, simply to hide how he affected her. "Mulder, it's me. I need to ask you something, it's about your dick."

"What about it?" He asked, clearly amused and sheepish and a little less clearly  _something else_.

She wouldn't let him hide from her in the same way she'd hidden from him and his flirting. "Is it hard for me?"

"Jesus, do you expect me to answer that?"

"I expect you to at least reach down and find out for me."

There was a groan down the line and Dana felt something swoop low in her abdomen. He'd done as she'd asked, she crossed her legs, tight. This was working.

"I'm not kidding around, Scully."

"Is it hard?" She knew it was.

"Am I dreaming?"

"Are you hard, Mulder?"

"Fuck, Scully. Yes, hard as a rock." She bit her lip, his voice having an uncanny affect on her body.

"Am I turning you on?" She asked, her voice completely betraying her.

"The mere prospect of you is turning me on!" The way he spoke gave her hope that he was too far gone to notice.

She tried to think of how to proceed. Reaching for anything  _hot_  to say. "How so? Is it that you like the idea of me putting my mouth on you? Or do you like it with my hand, my lips on your neck?"

" _Shit_ , seriously, who is this?" He was increasingly breathless, his voice betraying a rhythm. It was egging her on. She was greedy for the choked little noises now escaping down the phone.

"I can hear what you're doing," she whispered, and she found her hand was thumbing the hem of her skirt.

"Do you like it, Scully, do you like to hear it?" It was clear that his judgement was becoming impaired by arousal and he was beginning to forget his defense of humour.

She hesitated, she  _did_  like it. "If you put your hand on me, you'd feel how much I like it," she confessed.

"Ooh God," he groaned again, "Uugh, are you wet for me, Scully?" His voice was gravelly and low. She could hear the gentle  _pat-pat-pat_  of his hand meeting with the skin at the base of his cock as he tugged on his hard length. Was it alright for her to answer truthfully? This was not about her after all, but the fact was, her body was positively aching. Aching at the thought of his hands, of his mouth...

"Do you want me to check for you?" She asked, her husky voice betraying her genuine arousal.

His only reply was a groan of ascent. God bless the sounds he made. She was sweating. She surprised herself then, by getting up to lock the basement door, as though she wasn't bluffing. She pressed her back to the door and as a further surprise to her, her hand found its way under her skirt. She realised she absolutely wasn't bluffing. Not at all.

* * *

_OUR LADY OF SORROWS PRIVATE HOSPITAL_

_WASHINGTON, D.C._

A soft  _click_ was barely audible down the line.

"Was that the lock?" Fox asked, more urgent than he'd intended. The heat in his belly surged. "Are you actually…"

The moan that interrupted him was all the confirmation he needed. He might have even convinced himself he imagined the small perfect noise, but there was no denying the feeling it sent straight to the tip of his dick, fully erect in his hand. "Mulder," she whined, and he felt ready to explode just at that. "Tell me what the hell you're thinking." Was she just fucking with him? Did he care?

Suffice to say, this was definitely working. He gasped a little as he thumbed the warm wetness already gathered at the tip of his cock. "I'm thinking:  _how the hell am I pulling this off?_ ," he told her. And he was, he was trying to figure out how he'd managed this, to actually get a horny Dana Scully on the line. There was no 1-800 number for this, lord knows he'd tried.

She replied with the most delightful little chuckle. "I imagine you're using your right hand," she said, her voice the perfect amount of hoarse.

"What else are you imagining?" He asked, a wonderful feeling pooling low in his belly. All traces of self-consciousness slipping away in the wake of how  _good_  at this Scully was, and how quick she was to have honest to God fucking phone sex with him. This woman who had been in his life so long, just out of reach.

"I'm imagining your hand on me," she hummed.  _Jesus fucking Christ, have mercy._  Was it possible that she'd thought of this before, thought of it with him? Regardless, the fact that she was turned on in this moment, turned on and thinking of him. He wasn't going to be able to make this last.

"Where, Scully?" He asked, like a complete glutton for punishment. He could see her in his mind's eye, sitting right across from him as always, the same look in her eye that she got when she was really listening to him. Her skirt rucked up at her hip and her hand...

"Instead of my hand, your fingers slipping inside."  _Inside_.

"Keep talking," Fox demanded, the phone pressed to his cheek, every part of him desperate for every little sound he could pull from her before this was over. "Tell me how you like it."

"I think of you… I think of you when I'm in the bath," she let out a little sigh. "I imagine you watching me, you roll up your sleeve. Is your watch waterproof?" She asked.

"What?" He asked, nearly laughing but mostly appreciating the interruption as it pulled him away from the precipice. His cock was leaking steadily now, painfully hard. He'd be lying if he claimed never to have imagined her in the damn bath.

"I always imagine you taking it off, before you kneel next to the tub and dip your hand into the water. You're so confident, you tell me that I'm going to come for you. You make me believe it."

"You're going to come for me, Scully," he tells her.

"Yes, yes, and you...unh." He could hear her panting, moaning.

"What do I do?" He caught the phone on his shoulder and reached for the stupid plastic cup that had started this whole mess. One more dirty little comment from her would be more than enough to send him over the edge.

"You rub my nipple, and my stomach, and then lower."

"Yes." He was dreaming, he had to be dreaming.

"And your hand is on my vulva, between the folds, hot and wet for you. Pressing down on my clit, you kiss me."

"Oh God," he heaved, feeling a sudden lurch and a wave of arousal hit him like wine, taking him dangerously close to coming. "Scully," he pleaded. She didn't reply right away, not with words, but with desperate little noises that made the knot in his belly positively throb. Fox's fist was jerking frantically and he really, really wanted to come. The knot was becoming something lush and hot and wonderful. "I'm so close." It had only been a few minutes, but it was true, he'd never dared to imagine it would be like this. The sounds she made, the things she said.

"Mulder, I'm… so am I," and judging by the tightness in her voice, she was dead serious. "Oh fuck," and her voice was tighter again, and he'd  _never_  heard her curse like that. What the fuck, what the fuck.

Fox's breath hitched and he chokes the words out — " _Fuck… oh fuck, Scully,_ " — and in the moment that followed he was coming, hard, in thick, hot spurts with a loud moan. He coated the inside of the stupid jar, still working his cock. Then melted back onto the bed, wondering if he might die.

Completely spent, he was still dimly aware of her there on the line. He placed the cup on the table next to the bed and picked up the phone with his left hand.

"Scully?" He asked, and his cock twitched in reply to her muffled keening pouring right into his ear. And then she was quiet just as quickly, panting lightly.

"Mulder, did you?" Her voice was softer then he'd heard it, beautiful.

He was struck dumb for a moment, still processing what he thought he may have just heard. Had she said his name?

"Yeah," And he had to know. "Did you?" He laid back and closed his eyes. Trying to catch his breath.  _Did you just come and moan my name?!_

"I, uhm… Yes, actually," she admitted, and he wished more than anything that he could rewind time and share that with her again. "Is that ok?" Scully asked, and he furrowed his brow. "I just — in the moment," she continued.

"Listen, if you hadn't gotten off on the last few minutes, I'd probably just about die from shame," Fox admitted, incredibly proud to have actually aroused Scully to the point of orgasm. The mere thought filling him with such hope he thought he might burst.

"Really?"

"If I can turn you on once, Scully, I can die a happy man," he confessed.

"Thanks." They were quiet for a moment, in contemplation of what he wasn't sure. He should ask her to dinner, tell her to meet him somewhere, he should say something more, something to bridge the last of the gap between them. "You'd better get a lid on that sample, Mulder."

Some invisible door slammed in his face. "Oh, right. Sure."

"Goodbye," she said, just like that, and he tried to think of something he could say to hold her in this moment with him just a little longer.

"Bye, Scully."

The line went dead.

 _Coward,_  he cursed himself.


	2. Click

_OUR LADY OF SORROWS PRIVATE HOSPITAL_

_WASHINGTON, D.C._

Fox sat in his car, staring out into the parking lot of the clinic and ruminating on his fate. He couldn't just pretend like nothing had happened. ' _I'm going to get you through this um, this session, Mulder.'_  Everything she'd said was as clear in his mind as if she were saying it to him all over again. She'd been crystal clear.  _This phone call never happened_.

Son of a bitch, what had he agreed to? What had he been thinking?

' _Are you hard for me, Mulder?'_

The arousal returned then, unbidden. Every ridiculous fantasy he'd ever summoned up regarding Scully paled now in the wake of her words. Words she had actually spoken. How could he sit across from her now, drive around with her, fucking copulate in a petri dish with her?!

' _Off the record_ ,  _alright?'_

He rested his head on the steering wheel and willed himself to relax, already only moments away from humping his hand all over again.

Somewhere in his mind he was replaying the sound of their office door locking over and over.

 _Click_.

He was doomed.

_Click._

' _You're so confident, you tell me that I'm going to come for you.'_

_Click._

' _You make me believe it.'_

He ground his palm over the bulge in his trousers, seeking relief. "Unh," he grunted. Shit.

Fox inhaled deeply and blew out a shaky breath. He then morosely removed his hand from his demanding erection and planted it on the steering wheel. Trying to get a hold of himself before he was charged with public indecency.

Get a hold of himself — poor choice of words.

To think, this had started with him  _not_  being able to get a boner.

What had she reduced him to?

* * *

_FBI HEADQUARTERS_

_WASHINGTON, D.C._

There was a knock on the door which made Dana jump where she was sitting in the basement.

"Agent Scully?" A familiar voice called through the door.

"Yes, hold on!" She replied, hopping up from behind Mulder's desk. Her legs still felt like lead. She opened the door, it was AD Skinner.

"Agent, why was this door locked?"

"Oh, it… would you laugh, sir? If I told you that I was so used to only visiting this room on a clandestine basis that I locked the door as a matter of habit? Is everything alright?"

Skinner seemed to buy this. "Everything is fine, I'm just coming to inform you and agent Mulder that you have a case."

"Oh, well, do you mind if I ask what makes this case so urgent that we couldn't have a meeting in your office?" Dana asked, and Skinner looked blindsided by this.

"I suppose having the two of you back under my command in a manner which is transparent to the bureau once more is going to take some getting used to." He smiled.

"Am I to understand it that you've come down here to deliver this news personally for much the same reason as motivated me to lock the door?" She said, equally bemused.

"I'm afraid so, would the two of you please join me in my office in the next hour?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," she replied.

Skinner nodded promptly and then made to leave before pausing in the doorway. "Where is agent Mulder?" He asked, glancing at the empty room behind her.

Dana hoped rather vainly that her expression didn't give her away as she replied; "He's at the hospital, he had an appointment. He should be back in time."

"Very well. Oh, and happy birthday!"

"Thank you, sir."

Dana sighed as she shut the door behind her reinstated boss. She wasn't going to miss working under Deputy Kersh, but she did like the way Kersh could never keep up with her and Mulder when they were up to something. Skinner, on the other hand, was far too good of a detective.

Dana figured that she ought to call Mulder to make sure that he was back in time, but the thought filled her mind with dread and other feelings that she wasn't prepared to address.

She hadn't touched her cell phone since  _the phone call that never happened_  about a half hour previous. She'd been whiling away the time righting herself, feeling smug, and sighing.

Eventually, she bit the bullet, picked up the landline on Mulder's desk, and called him direct from the office.

He took his time answering.

"Mulder," he said, and she knew immediately that he already knew it was her. One of his little miracles that he managed, even though the number she was calling from was withheld.

"Mulder, it's me. We have a meeting with Skinner about a case in the next hour. Will you make it, or do I need to reschedule?"

"I'll be there," he replied. She could hear that he was driving.

"Okay, good. Goodbye, Mulder." The rush of relief she felt was too good to be true.

"Scully, wait, wait, wait!"  _why, Mulder?_

She felt her heart jump into her throat. "What?" She asked. Her knuckles probably white on the receiver.

"Oh, nevermind, it's nothing. I'll talk to you about it when I see you."

"Bye then," she said, and hung up before he could interrupt her again. She let out a shaky sigh and put her face in her hands. What had she done?

* * *

_FBI HEADQUARTERS_

_WASHINGTON, D.C._

Fox saw Scully turn into Skinner's office and took the chance to go down to the basement, only for a minute.

Just standing outside their office was like a religious experience, he stepped inside and lightly closed the door. Taking a quick breath in, he turned the lock.

 _Click_.

"Fuck," he grumbled aloud, resting his head against the now locked door.

He was already nursing a semi, and was marveling at the effect she was having on him. It was like those early days all over again.

Christ, her cell phone was sitting on his desk, positioned as if she'd taken a call in his chair. She was a goddamned sadist.

Biting his tongue, he picked up her cell phone. He was surprised that it felt so ordinary, considering how much power it had over him when it was in her hand.

* * *

_FBI HEADQUARTERS_

_WASHINGTON, D.C._

Dana sat in AD Skinner's office with her hands crossed in her lap. Skinner stood behind his desk, rifling through a filing cabinet to his left. Mulder was very nearly late, but just as Skinner pulled a manila file from the drawer, the office door opened.

God help her, Mulder looked completely different somehow, and yet heartbreakingly unchanged.

"You forgot your cell phone," Mulder said smoothly, holding it out to her. When their eyes met, she managed to keep her expression neutral, but no will on earth was going to keep the flush out of her cheeks.

She reached out and took it without a word, careful to avoid the tips of his fingers.

He bit his lip and took the seat next to her.

Skinner turned to them, either oblivious to the tension between them or used to it.

"Nancy and David Kline, married couple, missing persons presumed dead," Skinner said, dropping the case file on the table.

Mulder reached for it without preamble and frowned at the serial number. "This isn't an X file," he pointed out, rifling through the report nonetheless.

"I never said it was," Skinner replied, taking a seat at his desk and leaning forward. "These two, along with two other couples, have disappeared from The Falls gated community in California since it was established in 1991."

"California?" Mulder asked. "You want us to take our first case in California, and it's not even an X file?"

"Is there any further connection between these missing persons cases?" Dana asked, ignoring her partners typical obstinance. "Other than the location?"

Mulder was turning pages in the file, but he was looking at her.

"The houses — which are assumed crime scenes — were all found immaculate. Background checks on the victims revealed each of them to be professionals with clean records, I want you two to investigate," Skinner explained, he turned to Mulder. "Is there something you would like to ask agent Scully?"

"What? Oh, there's just a spot — a spot on your shirt, Scully," Mulder invented. He'd been caught staring. He reached across to wipe off the non-existent mark on Dana's shirt, but seemed to think better of it. He retracted his hand.

For the sake of her partner's dignity, she humoured the charade and wiped at her unmarked sleeve. "Thanks," she said, wishing he would just reach out and touch her. Touch her until his fingers were wrinkled like he'd gone swimming.

Skinner cleared his throat, watching them through narrowed eyes. "I'm going to put you two undercover in the house of the most recent victims," he said. "Pick a name, you're getting married."

"Undercover? In California?!" Mulder was aghast. "You just said you wanted us to investigate."

"Yes, an undercover investigation. I think it could be… fruitful," Skinner extrapolated.

Dana felt like she was at the centre of some mad conspiracy, like Mulder was conspiring against her and Skinner was in on it.

She gulped. "As a couple?" She confirmed. She scrambled for a way out. "I have no experience with undercover work as yet, sir."

"They're only civilians, somehow I think you'll find a way to convince them," Skinner smiled a tight smile.

Mulder groaned and she all but flinched at the zip the sound sent down her middle. Her partner threw the case file onto her lap and stood. "Come on, honey. Let's go pick out some rings."

"Mazel tov," Skinner mumbled, clearly meaning it as a dismissal. He turned his focus to some other papers on his desk. "What are your names?" He called as an afterthought.

Mulder was already halfway out the door. "Mr and Mrs Petri… Petrie," her partner replied. Casually confirming that he was the root of all evil.

"Fine," Skinner said, immune to Dana's plight as her mouth fell open. "Dismissed."

She nodded vacantly, stood, and followed the bastard out the door in a state of shock.

Undercover… married. She wondered if it wasn't too late to resign.

* * *

_DOBSON'S BAR & _ _RESTAURANT_

_SAN DIEGO, CA_

"He asked: What are you wearing?" Dana said, fanning herself with a cocktail menu.

"So, what did you do?" Tara Scully asked. Tara happily agreed to join her sister-in-law Dana for a drink to celebrate her birthday when the FBI agent flew into town out of the blue. Tara always had a lot of respect for Dana, a doctor working in law enforcement, she was so accomplished. Tara particularly felt attached to Dana after witnessing what a determined mother Dana was to Emily, her poor late daughter.

It had broken Tara's heart that her beloved son Matthew had been born just in time for Dana's daughter's funeral, but it had forged a connection between the two women. A certain understanding, mother to mother.

They'd spoken on the phone regularly in the year since, but nothing Dana had told her prepared Tara for the story she was hearing now.

"I told him," Dana replied, sighing. "And I ended up with my hand up my own skirt." She started to blush, hiding her expression in her drink.

Tara thought it would never happen!

Dana and her partner, over the phone no less. In that moment, Dana was openly pleased with herself. Almost as though she were still momentarily heady with the afterglow of her exploits.

"Dana! I've never seen you like this, you swore up and down it wasn't like that between you two. What a difference a round of tequila makes!"

"S'not the tequila, Tara. It's never been like that.  _He_  was different."

"And maybe you as well?"

"The way he spoke to me. Maybe it was the excuse he needed, I don't know. He usually just teases me here and there, but not with any real follow through."

Tara wasn't sure if the story was romantic, or just salacious. She also wasn't sure how to point out to Dana that her partner's sudden follow through was likely motivated by Dana's atypical reciprocity.

"What did he say when you saw him after?"

"He said: 'You forgot your cell phone.' And then he handed it to me right in front of our boss."

"The nerve! And you say the problem here is his  _shyness_?"

"Ugh, I can explain… Or I could if I was able to tell you about anything that happens in work. Let me just try." Dana took a sip of her drink. "He… once we had a case where this man… well, he looked like Mulder a bit — a lot actually — and Mulder found us together in my apartment."

"Dana!" Tara was impressed. Tara entertained the fact that as interesting as Dana was, the FBI agent would have quite a few more stories to tell if she wasn't constantly bound by nondisclosure.

"No, no, nothing happened! But the man told Mulder he was a 'loser by choice'. That week, the way Mulder was, it was like it occurred to him that the reason he wasn't with me could be as a result of his own choices."

"Maybe not just his choices, Dana. What happened today… you could have laughed him off, but you didn't and you see where it led you," Tara said, choosing her words carefully.

Dana's posture became very guarded. "He was helping me, and he needed help… and he called  _me_."

Tara recognised that she was on thin ice here. "Just, maybe he's not been teasing you all this time. Maybe he's… he's actually trying to communicate something. Think about it." LISTEN TO HIM! Tara was dimly aware that Bill would throw a fit if he knew she was pushing his little sister into a relationship with 'that son of a bitch', but the way Dana talked about the man from her work. They belonged to each other.

"How does it feel to be away from Matthew tonight?" Dana asked, clearly unwilling to discuss her complex relationship with her partner any further.

"Strange," Tara replied, it was only her third night away from her baby boy.

* * *

_US NAVAL STATION_

_SAN DIEGO, CA_

After mercifully taking a separate flight over, Fox now found himself in the dreaded position next to Scully in a hot car. He was collecting her at the residential section of the San Diego Naval Base before they had to stop in the field office down the road. From there it was a thirty minute drive into the suburbs before starting their assignment.

He was going to get friction-burn on his dick from pulling one off every chance he could get like a teenager, including twice in the plane's cramped wash closet. God knows how many times he'd come when he'd gotten home from work the night before, he'd practically fallen asleep mid tug. Somehow, the short span of time passed since his most recent orgasm wasn't enough to save him as Scully climbed in on the passenger side and pursed her lips around a paper cup of coffee. She was as intoxicating as ever.

A familiar feeling of inadequacy seeped into his stomach as he gazed at her. The day previous, Scully had as good as told him that in her fantasies, he could get her off purely by convincing her that she would come for him. Had she meant it? A dangerous thought. If he was that guy, that confident version of himself, maybe she'd already be his. Maybe she'd be his a hundred times over, but he had to believe that there would always be one more shot with her. He had to. Had to believe he wasn't destined to die a loser who'd never even kissed his 'wife'.

"Ready to start our lives together, Scully?" He grinned.

She reached into her coat and pulled out a pair of sunglasses to hide behind. "Let's get going, I want to be in my pajamas by seven." She cracked the window as he pulled out of the naval base's residential area where Scully had taken the chance to visit with her brother. "And call me Laura. You picked the name, you may as well use it."

Fox raised his eyebrows. "Has my bride-to-be had one too many g&ts at her bachelorette party?"

"It's possible I may have been out last night, Mulder."

He gave a low whistle and she winced. Son of a bitch, he'd broken Scully. While he had spent their hours apart furiously masturbating, she'd been drinking herself into oblivion. Had the aftermath really been so bad for her —

"Did I miss something?" He asked, and though her sharp, blue eyes were behind dark lenses, he could tell they were narrowed.

"Other than my birthday? No."

Dammit. He should've known there was a reason she'd flown ahead, she tended to avoid her brother without additional motivation to touch base.

Well — naturally — silence fucking reigned for a while after that.

Fox drove, feeling like the self-absorbed asshole he was, and Scully dozed beside him.

At one point, he nearly crashed the car on the interstate just to take a prolonged look at her beautiful face without suffering her scrutiny. That was usually enough to cheer him up. She smelt like… he inhaled —

A set of passing cars honked on their way past. "Eyes on the road," she warned in a stupor. He felt his ears heat up.

 _Fucking coward_.

"Hey Laura, if at any point you feel compelled to rehearse our wedding vows, just say the word."

"I'd run through it with you now, Robert, but I'd rather not die in a fiery wreck."

"You're so much cuter when you're sleeping, you know that?"

"Just drive."

"I'm sorry about your birthday, Scully."

She didn't reply right away, and from the corner of his eye she appeared to have the strangest expression on her face. "Don't be sorry," she said. "I had a good day, and I'm still very grateful for your... help." He realised she looked smug.

"You bring a whole new definition to the cat that got the cream, Mrs. Petrie." He smiled as she rolled her eyes in feigned disgust. "And if by help you do in fact mean sperm, then allow me to emphasize that you are very welcome."

"Bleck, Mulder."

He laughed.

She turned away, but she was smiling.

* * *

_FBI FIELD OFFICE_

_SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA_

"Don't look at me like that," Mulder complained, placing his hands over his chest as if to cover imaginary breasts. "I feel so violated."

Mulder was reading Dana perfectly, in typical fashion. Truthfully, she did feel like she was seeing him naked. It just wasn't natural to see her partner decked out in pastels, his yuppy transformation was complete. He was going to pass perfectly as Robert Petrie, gated community resident incarnate.

"You make it look so easy," she accused, tugging at the sleeves of the most muted clothing option that had been presented to her. It looked like Mulder had gone the other way and chosen the loudest possible combination.

"Says the woman who makes a tracheotomy look easy with a butter knife and a pen lid," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"That's in the past, I'm a kept woman now," Dana said, and then made a show of putting on the wedding ring the undercover team had given her. She grabbed a bottle of water before heading out to their new minivan.

Climbing into the passenger seat, she closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. She was nearly recovered from the hangover caused by her birthday drinks, but her other actions from the day previous left her suspended in a less navigable fog.

' _You're going to come for me, Scully.'_

She took another deep breath, and a hand on her arm made her jump.

"You have goosebumps, you can't be cold?" Mulder asked, pushing up her sleeve to examine her skin.

 _Quite the opposite actually_. She gently tugged her arm from his grip. Her skin tingling pleasantly.

"You startled me," she defended weakly.

He hopped in and turned the keys in the ignition.

"I startled you by noticing your goosebumps? There's a paradox of causation there, Laura," he explained, pulling out.

"Are you aware that you are always  _on_ , Mulder?" She accused.

"Are you aware that it's a full-time job being as off as I am?" He asked, and she put her sunglasses back on as an alternative to rolling her eyes.

"I feel like you're constantly trying to solve me," she continued, folding her arms and making fast peace with the increased cleavage offered by her yuppie disguise. Occasionally, she lived to tease Mulder.

"You're a puzzle worth finishing. Worth finishing more than once, I'm willing to bet," he replied. She tended to forget to prepare for his giving as good as he got.

"You're not gonna let this drop, are you?" She asked, maybe hopefully.  _Are you?_

"I don't know what you mean."

Of course he knew, the whole damn world was so transparent to Mulder. Nothing and no one was safe from his quest for the truth, and she always believed that one day he'd completely expose her.

If she didn't beat him to it.

' _Maybe not just his choices, Dana (_...)  _you could have laughed him off, but you didn't'_

* * *

_THE FALLS GATED COMMUNITY_

_SAN DIEGO COUNTY, CALIFORNIA_

"Now, I know it's very exciting that we're going to play newlyweds, Scully, but I am going to have to ask you to keep your hands to yourself," Fox explained, as he pulled up to the Klines old house.

A woman was standing outside of it with a large basket in hand.

"No can do, hot stuff," Dana commented dryly, reaching over and pinching his cheek.

Fox had to double take, but she promptly stepping out of the car.

Well, that was different.


	3. Threshold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoilers for 'Triangle'[ep03;sn06]

_THE FALLS GATED COMMUNITY_

_SAN DIEGO COUNTY, CA_

Scully stood close to him as they waved off the resident of the Falls, her hand rested on the small of his back, her thumb making small circles. Calming him and making him crazy in equal measure. It wasn't like her, but he wasn't complaining.

When he closed the door, they pulled away from each other and she cleared her throat.

"Let's get to work," she said, and he could see that she was conflicted.

"You didn't let me carry you over the threshold!" He complained, and she raised an eyebrow. Full of scepticism.

Then she exhaled and her body seemed to relax. "You're right," she said, and without breaking eye contact she opened the front door again to reveal the picture perfect empty street beyond. Stepping backwards, she made her way onto the porch and held out a hand for him to join her.

Far be it from him to stare a gift horse in the mouth. He followed her, even placed his hand in hers. They were outside, keeping up appearances and all that.

It was rare to hold her hand when he wasn't experiencing any urgent distress. Scully consumed so much of his thought process day to day, reaching out and touching her reminded him how she was actually smaller than him. Smaller than any woman he'd been with. Scully, who could hold it all in the palm of her warm hand. He tried not to hyperfocus on the cool sensation of her faux wedding band under his fingers.

She stared up at him, releasing her grip and reaching up to place her hands around his now tingling neck. "In your own time, Mr. Petrie," she muttered.

He swooped low, leading with his left shoulder. He trapped her legs behind the knee so she tipped back against his right arm. Just like that, he lifted her so that she was rested against his chest, her eyes still on his. Hardly enough room from her mouth to his own for them to breathe without sharing air.

"I'm in no rush," Fox replied. "Although, perhaps I should be, have you ever heard about the origins of this tradition, Mrs. Petrie? Of how a bride in the time between marriage and consummation is in a vulnerable exposed state, mirrored by the passage through the in-between position of a doorway. The in-between where spirits can dwell and act malevolently to trip the bride or even enter her body."

"Or the Medieval European concern that a bride might appear too eager to consummate if she were to accept the loss of chastity too willingly?" Scully laughed softly, and he noticed a lovely flush creeping down her neck onto her chest.

"Oh, Laura baby," Fox rumbled playfully, adjusting his grip so that she yelped and jumped a little in his arms. She felt so soft pressed against him.

Her giggle somehow felt like an accomplishment. "Take me inside," Scully said, and despite possibly being the top profiler in the country, he couldn't read her intention.

He stepped back into the house, kicking the door closed behind them. "Tell me what the hell you're thinking," he said, understanding why she'd asked the same of him during that  _phone call that never happened_.

Her expression became suddenly guarded at this.

It must have been the wrong thing to say. She dropped her gaze to the ground, looking confused. "Put me down, Mulder."

When he let her go, she quickly moved out of reach.

He shouldn't have brought up the damn  _phone call_.

He tried to think of something he  _could_  say.

"Scully, I —"

"I'm going to check the lab equipment, I think one of the neighbours damaged it on the way in." She left the room without looking back.

He ground his teeth, Scully was his closest friend. He hated that this was between them. That in a world where they had exposed so much together, they would hide basic personal truths from each other. They had to talk about it.

"Scully!" He caught up to her in the next room in a few quick strides. "We  _have_  to talk about it!" He stated.

She looked up from her box of shattered apparatus to address him. Her lips slightly parted, her gaze hard.

"Have to?!" She narrowed her eyes. "There is no 'have to'. There's nothing to talk about, Mulder. With everything I do, with everything I've done, what more could you want from me?  _Have_  to." she replied, echoing words he was already regretting. He hated that he'd pushed her, but at last he observed something familiar in her countenance. Aside from annoyed, she looked scared.

"What are you afraid of?" He asked.

She flinched. "I'm sure it's perfectly clear to you," she accused, and he was taken aback.

He raised his eyebrows and his hands in a single gesture claiming innocence. "You're as much a mystery to me as ever," he defended. "You hide your true feelings very well, and I'm not a psychic despite what you might think."

"Oh please, if you could resist the urge to lecture me on ESP just now, I'd be grateful. Dammit, I need an aspirin," she grumbled, easily deflecting his attempts to communicate as she went in search of her purse.

"Scully, I… I do care about how you feel," Fox called after her. He followed her into the next room. "That's why I'm asking for you to —"

"Get the door," she snapped, just as the doorbell rang. She turned and made her way upstairs.

* * *

Once Mulder was occupied with their guest and she was out of his view, Dana pressed her palms into her eyes and tried to think rationally.

A team had already been in to sweep the house before they arrived, so she wasn't too concerned with contaminating the place. She still took the time to walk slowly, keeping her eyes peeled for any evidence that could have been overlooked.

Dana was feeling totally destabilised, torn between her desire for Mulder, and her fear that she may be uprooting her life just to satiate her libido. Even that was assuming that he wouldn't reject any serious advance from her outright. And is that what she wanted? To make a serious advance? To jeopardise everything, and for what?

Damn, if she wasn't tempted though.

Her heart still pounded from being so physically close to Mulder. She wondered what would happen if she did lean into his teasing, how things would be if she'd leaned into Mulder whenever he'd tried from the beginning.

If he'd been at all serious, she hadn't made it easy for him. What did she even want to happen? There was so much to lose... she couldn't stand the idea of losing him.

The events of the week so far left her in little doubt that Mulder was attracted to her, but his desire to rehash what had happened didn't bode well. He was so solitary.  _So_ private emotionally. Short of an outright proclamation that he wanted to change how things had always been between them, it was likely Mulder intended to explain that he hadn't intended things to go so far. She was not prepared to be so completely rejected by him. Couldn't he at least allow her to live in hope?

Would he think less of her if he discovered that her commitment was to him as much as it was to their work? Would he have the gall to act surprised? And what if he brought up Diana Fowley? The woman who was back in his life after so long, who he'd actually  _been_  with, whom he so clearly admired. Who Dana had  _nothing_  in common with.

Dana went into the bathroom attached to the master suite, aspirin in hand. Turning the vintage inspired tap, she dipped her head under the faucet to swallow the small pills. Tossing her purse on the counter, she saw her cell phone inside.

She bit her lip, she picked it up, and redialled the last number she'd called.

Tara was quick to answer. "Hello?" Tara said, cheerful.

"Tara, hi. It's Dana." Dana was leaning more and more on Tara, relieved to have someone to rely on other than her mother and Mulder for the first time since Melissa had died. She respected Tara for how uncomplicated she made things, and how insightful she was.

"I didn't think you'd call!"

"I crossed my heart," Dana said, looking at her own reflection in the bathroom mirror. She looked her usual neat, unremarkable self — aside from the clothes — the outfit tred an awkward line between formal and casual which Dana's own clothes never did. She tended to commit to either professional or practical.

"Are you calling because you took my advice? Are you wearing a ring yet?" Tara teased. Dana could hear Matthew burbling in the background and it made her smile.

"Not quite," she said in answer to Tara's question, fidgeting with the wedding band on her finger. "I don't know what to do, we're staying together at the moment and I don't know how to  _be_ with him right now _._ "

"Dana, you tell me you trust your partner, that you've believed things based on faith in him alone. Why are you so skeptical about this? Have you considered just doing what you want to do?"

* * *

Fox paused in the bedroom, Scully was on the phone.

"As valid a point as that is, I'm supposed to be working!" She said, laughing beautifully. "I can't just blow that off and do whatever I like," she added.

"Scully!" Fox called, letting her know he'd followed her upstairs.

"Just a second," she called back. "I better get back to it. Thanks again for last night… Me too." She joined Fox in the bedroom, still holding her phone to her ear. Her and that damn cell phone would be the death of him. "Sure, soon. Bye." She hung up.

"How's Bill?" He asked her.

"I don't know, I haven't spoken to him. Who was at the door?"

This threw Fox for a moment, and he swallowed his desire to ask more specifically who she'd been speaking to.

"Mike Raskub, big fella came to replace the plates he broke." Fox wondered if he should apologise for what had transpired downstairs.

She toyed delicately with the aerial on her cell phone while he contemplated this.

"I'm sorry," she said, beating him to it. "I didn't mean to be short with you earlier, it's just… after yesterday. I don't want everything to change, do you?" Scully asked.

His heart sank. He wondered if he would be able to develop a sudden and very convincing case of laryngitis.

"Who was that on the phone?" He asked, changing tack.

"Tara," Scully told him, her hands falling to her sides. "Bill's wife."

A rush of relief momentarily alleviated Fox's disappointment. He held up the plastic evidence bag containing the unidentified substance he'd sampled in the lounge.

"Tomorrow I want you to run this into the office and get it analysed, I found it on the ceiling fan. I'll remain here and continue surveillance. Maybe you could get a replacement for your lab kit while you're at it."

"Sure, Mulder," she said, taking the bag from him and examining it. "On the ceiling fan?" She echoed.

"Mmhmm." He nodded, observing her estimable mind at work. Her lips were wet like she might have just had water, and suddenly his mouth felt dry. His mind wandered back to kissing the  _other_  Scully, her doppelganger from 1939. How had he done it? His finger itched to pull her in, if he could just lift his hand. Reach out. He did nothing. He really was one sorry son of a bitch.

After a few more moments torturous contemplation, she smiled and returned her attention to him.

"Do I have another spot on my shirt?" She asked.

He blinked. Crap. "Can a man not admire his wife?"

"Very funny," Scully replied, shooting him down with practiced ease. "Win Shroeder, the next door neighbour, what did you make of him, Mulder?"

Fox tried not to be too flattered that she would ask his opinion on profiling a possible murder witness — since being able to do so comprehensively had been his life's work — but it was to no avail. He perked right up like a shmuck, and promptly began to show off.

"He's a few tendencies short of a full blown suspect — if that's what you're asking — but I wouldn't rule him out just yet. He's certainly got a compulsive inclination, and being as annoyingly observant as he is, he likely knows more than he's letting on about what happened to the Klines." He watched carefully for his partner's reaction.

"So, you agree with Skinner's inference of a conspiracy of silence here? Between witnesses?" God, he loved when she got like this.

"These people are hyper aware of each other, and equally as invested in appearances as they are in to enforcing compliance to their collective persona." He folded his arms, braced.

She did her little nod then, her patented  _pleased_  nod. He felt warm.

"Did I hear Shroeder give you the name of a man in the neighbourhood to ask about the rules they have here?"

"Gogolak, he's the president of their Homeowners Association." He licked his lips "Do you think that by investigating the authority figure responsible for maintaining the community's image, that we'll be able to discover why these people are abetting the cover up of the crimes here?"

She quirked an eyebrow and put a hand on her perfect hip. "Yes, Mulder. I think there is an organised system resembling that of a much darker conspiracy right out in the open, do you disagree?"

"Quite the opposite, Sweetpea," he replied, glancing again at her petal pink mouth. When his gaze flitted back up to her eyes, he noticed her focus had wandered quite a bit lower.  _Shit_ , he felt his ears heat up, it was like his cock had developed a theory on her thoughts even before he had.

"Where's your cell phone?" Scully asked and he baulked for a moment. Her perfect blue eyes snapped back to meet his own, the colour intense — framed in dark lashes.

"I think I left it on top of some boxes downstairs," he replied.

She flipped her cell phone open and started to dial. Putting it up to her ear, she looked the picture of mischief.

"I think it's ringing," she said. He wanted to run his lips over the freckles on her cheeks. "Go answer it," Scully insisted.

He swallowed and left the room.

_What the hell is she thinking._

* * *

Evidence, you have to navigate your belief based on evidence.  _His eyes dilated, leaning close, the visible outline of his goddamn erection, and me… yesterday, he had called_ _ **me**_ _._  And she would navigate her actions based on well-founded belief.

' _You're my one in five billion.'_

And she would not be led by cowardice.

' _Scully, you have to believe me.'_

And she would trust him.

She walked back into the bathroom, turned to the clawfoot tub, and put the the plug in the drain.

She had the water on full blast and her shirt along with the cardigan over her head before Mulder managed to pick up her call. Dana kicked offer shoes.

"Mulder," he said, and he spoke softly as though he might frighten her. She made short work of her fly and stepped on her loose trouser leg to pull her foot free. She tossed the cardigan and the shirt back into the bedroom.

"Mulder, it's me," she replied, toing off her socks and tugging her underwear down before swiftly unhooking her bra. The evening sun light penetrated the room in rich yellow shafts and when she saw herself bathed in gold and naked only for her necklace and the wedding ring in the mirror behind the sink, Dana almost laughed.

She was being absurd, but in that moment, she'd never been so convinced that Mulder was attracted to her. She hadn't dared dream, but the way he looked at her. The way he had  _always_  looked at her, she knew he loved her but there was evidence that he wanted more. Incontrovertible evidence, she bolstered herself.

Even if he didn't want to admit it, even if she wasn't 100% ready, even if he still had mixed feelings about stupid agent Fowley, and even if all the signs for apocalypse were right and the world would be burning around them inside of a year… she had to take a leap sometime.

She pushed her hair back out of her face. He'd even said he loved her and...  _I want to believe_.

"Is everything alright?" He asked. She picked up her undergarments and tossed them out as well.

Dana hadn't closed the bathroom door and she didn't intend to.

"Mulder, I… How would you feel if the phone call that never happened yesterday, had happened?" She stepped into the bath, laying back so that her toes rested under the falling water, her slight back laid on the cool porcelain of the opposite end. She was facing the door which remained ajar.

"I think I'd probably feel a bit better." She closed her eyes, the hot water was just settling in around her thighs. "Then maybe I could talk to someone about it," he told her. She could just about hear his voice carrying from the base of the stairs.

She sighed. "Talk," she requested, the water continued to rise.

"I don't know what to say, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Scully."

"Please, talk to me. After everything, this shouldn't frighten you."

"Doesn't it scare you?"

She placed her left hand over her heart pounding in her chest. "Yes. I'm hiding behind my cell phone  _again_. My heart is racing. It doesn't take a masters in psychology to work it out, I'm scared. I am. You asked what I'm afraid of? Mulder, I've given you, and your passion, and our friendship the best years of my life, and that terrifies me. This, us. So just… please ask me what you want to ask me."

"Jesus, Scully… just, when we first met, do you remember what I said about your undergraduate thesis?"

She hesitated and then answered. "You mocked me for 'rewriting Einstein', what are you —" Her eyes snapped open and she scowled. "Hey! Is this a security question? Mulder! It's  _me_! I am not a podperson or a shapeshifter."

She heard him laughing on the other side of the house. "I didn't mean to mock you, I admired you! I also said that I liked it," he defended, "you paint me as such a brute."

"What? Do you think I'm possessed? Some kind of clone?" She leaned forward to turn off the faucet. "I mean really, Mulder, Is it so hard to accept that I might actually be coming onto you?"

…

That shut him right up. A misplaced echo of laughter left in his speech, he asked: "Is that what this is?"

She swallowed against the lump in her throat. "Mulder, come up stairs," she said, and she hung up the phone.

* * *

The line went dead.

The average staircase has between twelve and thirteen steps. The staircase Mulder was about to walk up had about a hundred. Or it may as well have.

He felt like he was nailed to the spot, Scully. Dana Scully was at the top of that staircase, and she was waiting for him.

_Fox, breathe._

How much time had passed? Seconds? It couldn't be more than a few minutes.

"Mulder?" Scully called, and his stomach lurched. Helpless as he was to gravity, he was drawn to her. Like a wave breaking, he went to her in a rush of movement.

It was surreal, to walk through all of the unpacked boxes, up the stairs, through the pristine hallway in the stupid picket fence house. The wedding ring he wore felt heavy on his hand. He could still feel the weight of her against his chest from carrying her over the threshold. It felt like he was walking into someone else's life. Into some reality where he and Scully hadn't taken it upon themselves to save the world, and had just made a life together in blissful ignorance.

When he reached the large bedroom it was illuminated by the beams from the setting sun. The light it shone through the steam as it drifted through the open bathroom door made Fox feel as though he was stepping into a dream.

And there on the ground —  _holy shit_  — Scully had spared no effort. She was earnestly fucking seducing him. A scrap of dark purple lace stood out against her discarded white shirt and he felt his cock rise to full attention at the sight. He wondered if she'd miss the underwear if he picked them up…

"Scully?" He called, and he cleared the last of the distance to the bathroom door. He extended his hand and paused. "Can I come in?" He asked.

"The door's open, Mulder," she replied.

He barely touched it and it swung open. Their eyes locked immediately, and he leaned against the door jam to take her in. Not quite trusting his legs.

"I'm swooning," he said, because he was.

She smiled a nervous little smile.

Something about this moment seemed familiar, and in the haze of his arousal it came back to him and he bit his lip.

' _I think of you when I'm in the bath… I imagine you watching me.'_

She'd made this so easy for him, so why was he struggling to even breathe? Standing a little straighter, he reached for his right cuff link.

Scully watched him in a way that she often did, but which he hadn't been able to identify before. In that moment, he thought that maybe it could have been desire. That it must be, because he could see her body react to him. Her nipples tight and rosy, begging to be touched. Her whole chest was flushed, and her thighs were pressed together under the water as if to alleviate some wonderful pressure.

And she was naked, her clothes trailed out like bread crumbs guiding him through a dark wood of denial.

Dropping the silly, yuppy sweater off his shoulders, he began to roll up his sleeve. He took a step toward her.

She appeared so calm reclined in the tub with her hands along the rim, watching him, glancing every so often at his painfully hard erection. She was driving him absolutely crazy.

He braced a hand on the edge of the porcelaine bath and dropped to his knees. He knelt so that his head was level with hers, and she faced him. The moment stretched out.

He hoped she could see some iota of what this meant to him from looking at him, because he had no means to articulate it. There was no way he could express enough, through touch, through mere words, but damn if he wouldn't try. How to communicate that in this bath water, she would baptise him so that he might have his soul restored in her name? How to tell her that without her to witness him, he would cease to exist? That this moment was like waking up from a twisted nightmare of a life to a waking dream?

She smiled at him, and then weakened him further with a small, shaky sigh. "It didn't occur to me that your watch would be on your left hand," she said, and her hand found his, hot and wet from running the bath. "I suppose it didn't matter if it was waterproof after all."

He ran his thumb over her palm. "Scully, I…" He pulled his hand free of hers and reached out to her, cupping his hand behind her perfect neck. His fingers tangled in her damp, fiery hair as he pulled her forward so that her forehead was pressed against his. The hot water in the tub sloshed around her, and she gasped.

She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, grabbing his shirt collar with the other and holding him in place.

"What?" Scully whispered, and he could feel the weight of the shadow of her cupids bow on his own top lip and wondered briefly if he would collapse under it. The front of his shirt was already nearly soaked through, along with the knees of his slacks as a puddle began to form on the tiles.

"Love isn't the right word," he said, his lips just brushing hers. "What's more than love, Scully? I don't know what to say."

"Then, shut up," she advised him, and then she chased the air into his mouth as he breathed her in, kissing him like it was her last day on earth.

He groaned at the contact, straightening up to kiss her more fully. Holding her small face in both hands. Until his right hand trailed down away from her neck under the water, he caressed her shoulder, obsessed with how soft she felt. How delicate her body was considering this was Scully. That this was her body, which had withstood so much. He gently moved his hand down along her arm, savouring her skin until he met again with her hand.

Her fingers closed over his and moved his hand down to palm her breast. And then she  _whimpered_  right against his mouth. "Unh," he moaned and he thought maybe he came, but no, only nearly.

He pressed his tongue into her mouth, his arousal getting the better of him now, he ran his thumb across her perfect nipple. Pinching it lightly before teasing her soft breast in circles under his palm.

"Mmmm," she hummed, and she arched her back to more fully answer to his ministrations.

He let his hand venture lower then, the water up to his elbow he felt the silk of her stomach. He broke this kiss, they were both breathing hard.

"Mulder," she murmured, and out of the corner of his eye he saw her part her legs to make way for his touch.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, running his lips over her freckles to whisper in her ear. The sensation more delicious than he could have hoped.

"Yes," she replied, as his hand trailed still lower, settling between her legs, he gently pressed against her labia majora.

Too turned on to check himself, he pulled her earlobe into his mouth as his finger slid between her hot folds, and even in the bath he could feel how wet she was for him.

"I'm going to make you come, Scully," Fox promised, and he felt her thighs tremble.

 _Fuck_ , at his current rate he was going to come just from the way she reacted. And in a new wave it hit him again that it was  _him_  that she was reacting to, and he was nearly overcome.

He began to rub around her vulva in small circles. He kissed her again, drinking in every perfect sound she made. Honing in on her clit, he started to massage back and forth with his thumb.

"You want me, Mulder?" She hissed. Her hands pulled at his hair, and at his shirt, and she was squirming against his touch in earnest now. The water was practically developing a current as it sloshed onto the floor in little waves.

His face was pressed against her cheek petal soft cheek as he grunted in reply, horny as sin. "Son of a bitch, Scully — I would've come already if I hadn't spent the last 24 hours humping my fucking hand like a teenager after the mess you left me in." He slipped his hand lower, allowing his finger to curve inside her, pressing up against her tight heat and causing her to grab at him so fiercely that his shirt lost several buttons in the fray.

"I always think of you, only you, Mulder… for so long. But, I never thought —  _oh_ — never thought it would be like this.  _Fuck_ — I'm so close... please."

"Jesus, Scully." He couldn't help it any longer, his left hand — which had been running through her hair — dropped to his crotch and he squeezed his stiff dick over his slacks, seeking relief. "Hnnh," His head tipped forward, pressing against her shoulder. His body overwhelmed with sensation.

Flush with arousal, he began to thrust his hand against her frantically, and she cried out. Whining, she lifted herself part way out of the bath to wrap her arms around him in a desperate embrace, he felt like he was on fire.

Her head on his shoulder, she panted against his neck. He lifted his hand from his cock to hold her as she began to tremble. She was so vulnerable, so exposed. To know her so intimately in that moment rendered him utterly helpless to her.

His right hand working against her hot, delicate vulva, his lungs full of steam. The whole scenario was so dizzying and surreal and he couldn't believe he was fucking in the middle of Scully's fantasy. That he was there, that it was  _him_.

"Come, Scully," he grunted, incredibly turned on at the possibility that it would turn  _her_  on to hear him say it, and his heart just about broke as she fell apart at his words.

"Fuck — Mulder," she moaned, her mouth finding his once more as she bucked against his hand. At least a third of the water from the tub was all over him and the floor, and he thought he might be crying as she kissed him hard but he was too waterlogged to be sure.

His stomach lurched as her legs clamped around his hand, her nails digging into his shoulders as she clung to him.

Then it was those little sounds he'd replayed in his mind a thousand times a second since yesterday, she sobbed against his mouth, and he could feel her lips curve into a smile. Then she was still, slack in his arms.

Their lips parted and they stared at one another. She was so gorgeous, so beautiful, he thought she would kill him.

He needed to feel her close. Closer.

He kissed her quickly and then not breaking eye contact, he took his hand off of her vulva and reached under her thighs to lift her. He carried her out of the water, accepting that a good deal of the water came with her, and then she settled in his lap. He held her against his chest, and then tipped them both back to lie on the floor in a tangle of limbs.

"I can't be with anyone else, Mulder," she whispered, and he kissed the top of her head. She propped herself up to look at him. Her lips parted as she tried to steady her breathing, a perfect flush staining her cheeks. One of them was still shaking.

"Can I get that in writing?" He asked, Scully's hip resting deliciously against his cock.

"Can you dry me off and take me to bed?" She asked in answer. The last of the sun's rays sank from the room, rendering her blue eye even bluer in the dusky twilight.

"Alright, but then you're not to say I never take you anywhere," he warned, and she rolled her beautiful eyes as his face split into what might have been the widest grin of his life.

And she was kissing him, and he kissed her back, and he felt like he could breathe for the first time in longer then he cared to say.

_I love you is not enough, Scully._


End file.
